


Aligned With The Stars

by prettyvillain



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Awkward Flirting, Cheesy, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Fluff and Smut, Forbidden Love, Happy Ending, Humor, Royalty, Some things are different and other things are the same, Soulmates, Teasing, True Love, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, WoL is a knight who meets the clown prince Ardbert, because it is, prince/knight dynamic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:26:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28639242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyvillain/pseuds/prettyvillain
Summary: Ardbert is the prince of the kingdom of Norvrandt, with his birthday tomorrow he decides to go hunting for his final day of freedom. After he falls from his horse, he finds himself being saved by a most unpredictable stranger— a travelling lady knight from the island of Thavnair.A royalty AU mixed with all the ingredients of your typical romantic story. A tale of true love and how even in an alternate world, true love always finds a way.
Relationships: Ardbert/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another piece for Chey! This one is a lot longer than my usual work and is definitely a little different! So long I need to chop it into a few pieces, but I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> Thank you in advance to everyone who supported this long process, it was very fun to write!

Springtime has long since been hailed as the perfect season for hunting. The trees have yet to fully bloom with flowers but the cold lonely branches are far from the sad looking wisps of life they once were. It’s that perfect middle ground between the sweaty heat of the summer and the bleak darkness of winter. Ideal for spying upon creatures through the thickets and chasing after small monsters above the banks. 

The sound of Ardbert’s steed echoes through the woodland as each hoof pounds against the stone path. Bow drawn, the prince’s eyes dart left to right in search of something worthy to take home. Perhaps a lone gremlin or even a scaled lizard-like wyrm. Anything better than a sparrow or rabbit really. 

These precious moments beyond the castle walls are a cherished few and he plans to make the most of this little outdoor venture before he is usually summoned home to lessons and training. ‘Tis the eve of his twenty-third birthday, after all, and upon reaching that age the prince is expected to forgo the childish whims of his fancy and instead adopt more serious behaviours and hobbies. 

He brings his steed, Seto, to a halt. The horse whinnies and grunts, his breath a thick silver cloud with every heavy exhale. 

“ _Easy_ , boy.” Ardbert rubs a gloved hand along the horse’s neck. He imagines that he’s been traversing these woods for hours. The morning sun no longer peeks through the branches and instead clings to the horizon of hills in the distance, casting purple tinted rays across the grass as it bleeds through lilac leaves. Late afternoon, perhaps? He’s not quite sure.

He considers heading home empty-handed when a sudden blur races across the trail before him. He jolts Seto back into action and off like a flash the pair begin galloping along the forest path in quick pursuit. The creature darts on and off the stone, skipping into the flowers along the roadside before criss-crossing to and fro. 

“Closer, just a little more and we’ve got him!” Ardbert’s grin reaches ear to ear as he steadies his bow and attempts to aim at the hide of the small animal. It looks almost like a wolf, but its tail fans out flat and unusual behind it. Some strange monster’s brood perhaps, either way it was certainly more impressive than any squirrel! 

They chase after their prey, riding up and down the many hills and dips in the road, until the animal takes a sharp corner and darts through the underbrush. Ardbert seizes the reins and attempts to guide Seto into a turn after it, but Seto skids across the slippery damp moss beneath his hooves and Ardbert is sent flying from horseback.

The few seconds he spends soaring through the air, he watches as the animal disappears into the thick of the forest before he finally lands hard against the cracked stone of the road. Searing pain shoots through his shoulder as he collided with it, each rough texture grinding against his bare flesh and dragging a shout from his throat.

“By the Gods that stings— _ugh_!” He attempts to roll back onto his feet but the hit was far more severe than it seems. He clutches at his shoulder and looks around wildly for any sign of help. Seto is wandering a far few feet down the lane, grunting and snorting as he trots about defiantly. 

“Maybe I could-- ow, _**ow**_ , wait… never mind.” He slumps onto his back and lets his eyes fall closed. He imagines there’s blood beneath his leathers, dribbling down the exposed flesh of his arm, but he’s far too afraid to look in case it’s grotesque. 

But lying in the middle of the road was no better than crawling across it. It’s a few seconds before he tries once more to hoist himself upright, when a distant clapping of hooves causes him to twist his body as best as it would allow. Maybe it is some poor travelling merchant perhaps with a cart capable of pulling him home, or even a bard with room on the back of their pony would be preferable to simply crawling home. 

Alas as his eyes adjust to the glare of the sun blaring in the direction he faces, he spies neither of those hopeful things, but instead a lone knight atop her white steed. Soft pastel rose hair curled in neat braids around her head, allowing her circlet to rest atop her ‘do carefully. Her expression too, once she was close enough for Ardbert to see it, was equally as pink, the cold having nipped her cheeks and earning them a delicate blush. 

“Need a _hand_ , sir?” She asks with a musical laugh tethered to her words. 

Ardbert grunts in embarrassment, quick to avert his gaze. “That would be most appreciated, my lady.” He takes her outstretched hand and rises to his feet. **Everything** hurts. He sways this way and that and the woman steadies him with a firm grip of her leather-clad hand on his. 

“Woah, take it easy. What happened here? The family horse finally tired of lugging you around and decided to kick you off?” She can’t help but chuckle at these prim and proper noblemen incapable of riding ten feet without coming into some trouble. She’s spent her life watching as lesser knights than she were thrown from atop their stallions and into the muck of the stable. She’ll never tire of it. 

“I— _ **I beg your pardon**_ , my lady?” Ardbert’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, unable to say little more than expressing his disbelief. “You know **not** towhom you’re addressing, do you? No fair maiden of the realm would address the prince like this!” He’s not angry but his surprise is so well etched into his face that the knight blinks for a moment in response.

“Oh, of course! You’re Prince Ardbert, of the Norvrandt Kingdom!” But she does not dip into a bow, even from atop her horse. She hides her laugh behind her free hand as she lets go of his grip in the other. “Well, forgive me, your grace, it is rather difficult to recognise anyone with their face covered in mud after all.” 

Ardbert’s blush deepens to a thick and blotchy red. “Oi, enough of that will you! I simply fell as I made the turn. I was on the hunt you see and it was just one miscalculated mistake, that’s all.” 

“ _Ah_ , I understand, sire.” Her sarcasm purposefully bleeds through her tone, and as Ardbert glances back up to her he spies a grin teasing at her pink lips. “Lady Calista of House Sener at your service. Might I offer his royal highness a ride back to his castle? I’m sure a plethora of royal medics will be on-hand to nurse you back to health.” 

She pats the back of the saddle. There certainly is plenty of room. Besides herself and a small satchel most likely containing spare clothes and food, there are blankets and various cloths designed for shelter. At the horse's side hangs two circular weapons, which Ardbert recognises after a few seconds of blinking at them. 

“House Sener… of Thavnair?” The chakrams were a signature weapon and the dancing motif etched into her cloth are famed the world over as a staple of Thavnairian people and its culture, but it is to be the first time he’s ever seen them in person before, and not simply drawn onto parchment or found within a tome. 

Ardbert takes the knight’s hand once more and she helps hoist him up onto the back of her mount. The horse whinnies but remains calm with a few reassuring pats of her master’s hand. 

“All set? Why don’t you whistle on over for your horse to follow us back.” Calista reaches for the reins and begins trotting them up the blossom-littered path at a steady pace.

The whistle between Ardbert’s teeth causes Seto to lift his head. “Come on boy, you useless thing.” He mutters as the horse begins walking alongside Calista’s own. 

The walk back to the castle begins as a quiet one, save for the clopping of hooves and the sounds of the forest around them. The wind rustles the various leaves and the wildlife creaks and calls from the depths of the woodland. Calista is the first to break their silence however, turning her face a way to address the prince at her back.

“Riding alone seems awfully dangerous for a prince. I assumed royalty would usually be accompanied by legions of knights, desperate to throw themselves in the path of danger for their lord.” She scoffs. 

“Typically yes.” Ardbert replies grumpily. “But there are times when I seek the solitude of the woodland for myself. It’s not quite as much fun as you’d imagine, being followed by noisy knights when you’re attempting to hunt.” 

“I don’t need to imagine it. Knights make too much noise than is seemingly possible. All that useless clanging and density. And don’t get me started on the armour—” Calista laughs. It’s a snort, followed by a giggle which catches Ardbert off-guard. 

“Is it _common_ for knights to insult each other like that? Where’s your honour?” He asks, only half seriously. 

“Oh, there’s no camaraderie between me and those sorts of knights. Glorified bodyguards, they are. You won’t catch me tending to a prince’s each and every woe like some obedient puppy.” She steers them both along a particularly narrow path, using one arm to lift a few wayward branches from batting the pair of them in the face. “No offence of course, sire.” 

“It’s difficult not to take any, my lady. I’ve never met a knight quite like you, so truly unafraid of what might come spilling from her lips.” But he’s not angry, not in the slightest. Her gumption is a rare kind especially from a lady knight who so often pride themselves on their proper and proud nature from what he has heard of them. _Devotion_ is their focused necessity. But Calista seems to care little for that and more for the practical means of a knight. However, one thing does catch his attention.

“But, you _are_ tending a prince’s woe at this current moment are you not? Surely this defies your personal code.” He chuckles.

Calista’s grin returns and even from behind, Ardbert can hear that she is pleasantly amused.

“You must forgive me, had I known you were a prince and not merely a damsel in distress, I surely would have left you at the roadside for the lesser wyrms to find you at dusk fall to drag back to their dens for supper.” 

The pair of them laugh, Ardbert somewhat cautiously so, and the sound echoes about the forest path. Whereas there has been somewhat of a cool breeze before, both of their cheeks are now a blossoming pink with warmth and their smiles are wide from laughter.

As their journey comes to an end, with the castle path opening up ahead, their conversation and giggling dies down and Calista clears her throat. It’s obvious from the weapons at her side and her differing manner of dress that she’s not native to the land and the people of the courtyard ask in hushed whispers as to _who_ this strange woman is and more importantly _what_ she was doing with the prince.

A few of the ladies seated by the castle fountain cover their lips with their extravagant fans and speak in hushed tones as the horses trot on by. 

_“A lady knight, from Thavnair? How unusual, what is she doing here?”_

_“I’ve no clue, darling. Perhaps she harmed the prince somewhere on the road, I‘m certainly surprised she did not rob him blind and leave him there—”_

_“Not too loud, now! She can hear!”_

The pair quickly gather their skirts and dart away as Calista’s gaze falls upon them. Unfortunately she is highly used to such scandalous rumours of her presence, so blatant in her company as if the whisperers had no shame at all. 

“Pay them no mind. Women like that _thrive_ on their gossip. I shall let no man nor lady in the kingdom forget it was you who saved me, although perhaps not from embarrassment.” Ardbert reassures her as he eyes the disappearing women. “I must introduce you to Mother at the very least. Perhaps she can come up with a reward or something. You must stay for the feast tonight.”

As they approach the castle gate, Calista shrugs her shoulders somewhat at Ardbert’s offer. “I don’t think I’m all too welcome here, sire. I’ll gladly take a night of comfortable rest, but perhaps it’s best that I be on my way sooner rather than later.”

Ardbert fails to understand. He’s somewhat naive to the way of the world, to how Calista might feel estranged from their customs, or put off entirely by the reputation she seems to have already garnered without doing anything at all. He places a hand atop one of her shoulders and speaks in earnest. 

“I will not hear of it. You may be a guest in our kingdom, but it is the duty of all who traverse it to obey a prince’s command.”

“So you’re _commanding_ me to stay?” She smiles, handing the reins of her horse to the stable boy as they are led into the royal keep. “Not quite the distressed damsel when it comes to such proper matters as this?” She teases and Ardbert is glad for her turned back as he blushes furiously. 

“Must you insist with such a nickname? At least find me something more masculine, have I not suffered enough injustices today?” He swings his legs from the horse and takes the hand of the stable boy to get down safely, careful not to knock his wounded side much more than he already has.

Calista jumps down with ease and collects her items from the saddle. The chakrams hook onto clever devices at her hips, the satchel easily swung over her shoulder and the rest of her armour clinks easily into place. “Alright then, how about ‘ _Prince Clutz_?’” She stifles her giggle with the back of her hand. 

They face one another and Ardbert’s attempt to implore her to choose another name catches within his throat. He knows not what it is which causes him such distress, but his eyes flicker across her spring wind-tousled hair, the rose blush to her cheeks and the mischievous glint within those bright green eyes. 

“Shall we? You’ll be wanting a bath, tended to by your house of maids I’m sure. You’ve made such a mess of your royal trousers.” Calista gestures to the grand oak door leading into what she suspects is the main hub of the castle. 

“I can always change my mind about that dinner, you know. I am the prince after all, become too much of a nuisance and I could have you executed.” He laughs before wincing at the pain still burning through half of his body.

“ _Here_.” Calista offers her arm for support. “Save the threats ‘til _after_ you’ve rested. Perhaps then I might take them seriously.” 

He had been close enough to her before as they had ridden through the forest, but now his face was pressed against her shoulder and the scent of lavender swarmed the senses, paired only with the clinging aftermath of her ride through the pine forest. Never has a smell ever dazed his mind in such a way, not even in the late summer when the warm jams and spices of the season were imported from the distant shores and filled the castle with a comforting warmth. 

By this he was most perplexed. 

“You have no need to baby me so; I am not an infant.” He snorts, improper behaviour for a prince but in her company he loses himself as easily as letting his robes slump from his shoulders after a long day. As if this is naturally how he ought to be with her. 

“Pardon me, your grace, for I did not mean to offend you. ‘Tis unbecoming of a fair maiden, I am sure.” She keeps herself from laughing, but her smile is ever an infectious sort and Ardbert too grins with his face turned aside. They move from the cold and into the castle, leaving many eyes following them as they disappear and many whispers hanging in that chilly air.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calista has earned an invitation to the prince's pre-birthday feast and consequently a meeting with the Queen herself.

The grandness of the hall is nothing close to what Calista expects. Banners swoop overhead and swords line the walls like memorabilia of times the castle’s inhabitants shall nary forget. The tables are decorated each with bouquets of spring flora, with candles and their dancing flames illuminating the goblets and cutlery. The colours of their sigils; soft magenta emblazoned upon bold reds, are such contrasting shades and yet amongst the gold of the castle’s finery it seems perfectly paired to exert the regal nature of it all.

Knights do not typically eat with their masters in many of the kingdoms and Norvrandt is not exactly an exception, with the knights’ table some fair few feet away from the majestic spread of the main royal table up ahead. As Calista takes a sip of her wine, she observes who she assumes to be the chief of the kingdom’s royal guard as he bows low and thorough before the Queen. He is an elderly man with several scars embedded into his wrinkled cheeks. She cannot help but wonder which of the kingdom’s many monsters attributed to each cut. 

“Drink up, will you. You’re the prince’s honoured guest, it’d be rude to pass up good ale.” Says an already half-merry knight at her side. His name, as he informed her some few drinks prior, is Branden, a devoted knight to the family. Supposedly he had prior served a princess in a far away kingdom, or so one of the other knights tried to whisper to her before his taking of the seat. Even with him seated beside her the man still towers well above Calista, but his smile is a genuine sort, even if his eyes seem to speak of a pain behind their honest twinkling. 

Some feet from them is a bard strumming at her harp, a lady with hair of a wilting sunset orange tucked beneath a large white hat. She plays a happy tune which has the nearby men slapping their knees in time with her strums, a pleasant smile upon her face as she plays song after song well into the night. 

“There’s certainly plenty to be said for the atmosphere of this place.” Calista remarks, raising her voice to be above the noise of laughter. “I would almost have assumed the royal family far too proper for such a cacophonous display.” Each table seems alight with entertainment, from giggling ladies of the court, to knights revisiting old tales of conquests. From where she sits Calista can hear a piece of it all.

It is with a large smile upon her face, her lips fresh from a joyous giggle amongst her fellow laughing companions, when her eyes flicker over to meet with those of the prince at the high table. His own brilliant blue gaze lingers upon hers and, while it catches her off-guard, she finds her cheeks flush with warmth. Alcohol, perhaps, as she scarcely likes to drink but she could hardly refuse one as the good knight had reminded her. 

“Aye, I dare say you’ve been a sight for that young sire, Lady Calista.” Branden bids her. “What with how intensely his majesty studies you and all. Here look now, he’s been giving you the eyes all night. Best go bid your thanks, give him my best.” His laughter erupts and the entire table joins along with him. 

“Aye lass, go on!”

She shakes her head with amusement, curls of pastel peach dancing about her ears as she pushes herself from the table and rises from her chair. Eyes follow her, whispers following suit, but she ignores them all with the straightening of her spine and a steady breath of confidence. She has met with the King and Queen of her own kingdom many a time, what difference is there here? 

Reaching the table, she finds there to be quite a difference indeed.

“Your majesty.” She bows as is courtesy for a knight, whether male or female in her kingdom. “Your highness.” She turns and dips a second bow to Ardbert, who is doing his best to hide his smile behind his goblet of mead. “I must thank you deeply for your kindness in letting me attend your feast. I am an outsider to this kingdom, but may I express how very glad I am to have been a guest in it. Once I return home, I will speak only of the kindness Norvrandt has shown me, as well as its beauty.” 

Such waffle, she dislikes spouting such things at times but it seems to warm the Queen’s rather rigid expression, just a little. 

“My dear, you speak so well for a knight. Surely you are not a lowborn fighter, but a lady wishing to see the world beyond her father’s keep?” She asks, doing little to hide the judgemental tone within her voice. “You are such a pretty girl, a lively one too. Do away with your smirking and swordplay and you’d make a fine lady of the court in your kingdom. I have no doubt there is some lonely lord in need of a wife with such a strong temperament and pretty hair.” 

Calista’s gaze flickers from the Queen’s face to Ardbert’s who looks to be cringing far worse than herself, before returning her attention back to his mother. She has of course heard tales of the Queen’s proud nature, but never would she have assumed it to be so icy in her affirmation of her beliefs. What little details she knew of the kingdom seem to dance quite far from the truth, on many a matter.

“If your majesty allows it, I would prefer not to imagine such a thing. I have no desire to be such a lady, nor to marry for that status. Should I ever find it suitable to marry, I should only hope to marry a man who may parry my blade without a wince or perhaps leave his battles to me to fight.” 

A quietness seems to fall within the previously large hall, but Calista continues. “I mean not to insult your good advice, for I am certain that a woman somewhere may be in want of it, but I’m afraid such a woman I could not possibly relate with. I am rather glad to be a knight of Thavnair, my house is not _low-bred_ nor without other daughters or sons, and so my fate is my own. Dance is not quite as barbaric as the blade, but it is a noble weapon nonetheless.”

Hushes and whispers echo within the room and there’s a noticeable dip in sound as the music comes to a halt. She feels the eyes of everyone present burning into her back but she swallows a breath and speaks her final piece. 

“Once more, I must _insist_ my thanks for your hospitality. A stranger would not expect such grandness, but I’m afraid I cannot take much more than what you have offered me, advice included. I bid you and your people well, that your kingdom remains as beautiful as I have seen it and that more strangers in the future are welcomed with similar warmth and kindness.” 

She bows once more but before she is able to leave the Queen lifts a hand to pause her. 

“One moment, Calista.” Her red lips could not be any more pursed and Calista wonders if she has finally said enough to earn a punishment. Such a free-spirited girl, she has always been so insistent on speaking her mind as plain as day. “I have never once heard a young woman speak to me in this uncouth manner. A knight you may be, but a lady you are certainly not. I only hope that you retain some decorum amongst your masters, for if you were a member of _my_ royal guard I would have that tongue **removed**.”

The onlookers are deadly quiet now and Calista can feel their anxieties bubbling. However, the queen continues. “You are to leave this castle this very instant. Ride from our kingdom at dawn and do not set foot upon our land unless you come bearing the most sincere of apologies. I shall spare you your life on account of you saving my son’s, but know that is the last kindness spared to you, girl. Back home to Thavnair you shall go, where you ought to tell all the other little daughters of your house that knighthoods are for honourable men and not silly _mouthy_ girls.”

She waves her handkerchief and several of the knights rise from their tables. Calista turns and watches as Branden’s large frame emerges from her previous table, his gaze unable to meet hers. It appears to almost pain him to move as he does, at the Queen’s command to escort Calista out. The lady knight offers one last bow, glancing across at Ardbert, before she finally begins to take her leave from the great hall of the castle.

It is but a short walk from the front of the room and to the gate of the castle and yet it feels as if time itself has slowed completely as she travels. She holds no real ill will towards the people she passes, even though their looks border along judgemental, for she can hardly blame their sceptical glances. After all she has just insulted their monarch, refused her good advice and instead will vanish into the night about as fast as she had ridden in. 

Once she leaves the grand chamber however, a few of the maids press bundled goods into her hands. Fresh warm food they say will only go to waste, for they would much rather insist it upon a lady knight than throw it to the pigs. “Been a long while since we’ve seen the young lord smile ‘as he did, let alone clap our eyes ‘pon a lady knight. Were I born with such freedom, I fancy meself as much the same as you, my lady.” The eldest of the maids croons, her smile a wrinkled but warm sort.

“You have my thanks, my only regret of the evening is that I could not stay for dessert.” Calista’s laughter is gentle and polite and the other women feel their old hearts melting. “Well now, I had best be off, before the Queen finds me still lingering in her halls.” The maids all curtsy and bid her farewell and it is only then that Calista steps back out into the courtyard of the great castle.

The coldness of the night is an unwelcome horror against her skin, her exposed arms already shivering before she clasps her armour back into place. Yes, return home to the warmer climates, such a thing has never felt so appealing at this place and time, regardless of how beautiful the kingdom may be. She clambers atop her horse once more, tossing the stable boy a silver coin, before kicking her heel and galloping off back down the leaf-patterned lane.

As she rides she regrets not bidding that silly prince one final farewell. There’s little chance she might see that face again after all. Alas, there’s little else to do now but ride on into the night and make plans to leave this place sooner than later.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is Calista truly ready to leave the kingdom behind? Something is definitely keeping her from simply riding as far as she can in the dead of night, but what will she do next?

“Will you be wantin’ lodgings for the week, ma’am?” Asks the innkeeper, peering down his nose through cracked spectacles at her. “This part of the country looks mighty swell in the blooming season. ‘Eard you came from up the castle way, shame they couldn’t put you up in them lodgings, not like they aint got the room for it.” 

“No thank you sir, just the one night shall suit me fine.” A handful of coins she hopes along with her insistence will kill that suggestion of a prolonged visit dead. The sooner she can ride away from this place, the better. Not that the country is dull or ugly in the slightest, but upon her ride from the castle to the nearby hamlet, the queen’s words have only proven to sour Calista’s mood greatly. 

That she might be less of a lady for wanting to protect herself, to see the world and fight for her place in it. The idea merely irritated her, which is somewhat difficult to do. Not even just that, but her rather plain way of suggesting that her place in the world was on the arm of some pathetic man, surely a woman who might have suffered that fate herself would do better than to suggest it to another?

“Understood ma’am, take the ground floor room, just through the hallway there. Call upon me should you be wantin’ for anythin’…” The innkeeper interrupts her thought by scooping up her coins and depositing them in his drawer. He hands over a small brass key and Calista takes it hastily before the man can pry further into her affairs. 

“My thanks.”

Each floorboard whines with creaks and groans as she takes the directions of the landlord and heads to her designated room. The wood around her smells faintly of stained mead, the floor proving with its mis-matched patterns of stains that over the years this place has simply drowned in cheap booze. It’s not _quite_ as fancy as the castle, but there’s no snooty women of the court to whisper behind her back at least as Calista moves quietly through the passage. A bonus really.

A few shouts of drunken men behind one of the walls sees the knight reach for her weapon, but the voices remain behind the locked door and she hastily passes just in case. Her own room is a small, dingy looking place with a mere chair, bed and mirror to occupy the limited space. But it suits her simple needs just fine. She hurries herself in and bolts her door quickly, lighting the candle with a strike of a match and rubbing her hands together for warmth.

She sheds herself of her armour; pulling leather straps from her wrists and legs before letting the armour clink against the floor. She unravels bindings and gently places her chakrams upon her chair before unwrapping one of the food parcels and taking a bite of the bread. At first, she supposes it to be some simple plain bread, but as the softness dissolves against her tongue she finds a familiar spice nestled within the subtle flavours.

At last, something _comforting_ to eat. The food of this land is so bland in comparison to her usual tastes that the mere hint of spices is enough for her to cram the rest of the bread into her mouth at once. A satisfying texture with an altogether warming taste. Whatever grievances she came there with seem to melt away as she swallows and smiles. 

She’s not quite homesick, not exactly, but the flavour might bring her to tears had her day gone any more south. Had the Queen’s words bit at her in a way she was not hard enough to shake off. Nonetheless, she silently thanks the maids of the kitchen as she bundles up the paper and tosses it beside her bag.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prince can't help but feel like something's tearing at his chest with the lady knight seemingly long gone into the night. Is there anything he can do, or is it simply too late...

“Should I find you escorting strange women into our castle once more, I shall strip you of your entitlements, my son.” 

A thick silence hangs between the prince and his mother for what feels like forever. While he stares up at her, hoping to meet her gaze, the Queen avoids his eyes entirely and chooses to continue studying her jewel-encrusted goblet instead of offering her son any glances at all. On the eve of his birthday, no less, and instead of courting a respectable lady of his own kingdom, he’s found flailing around in the arms of some _**nobody**_.

“ _Really_ , the _nerve_ of that girl. After the kindness she showed you, I had thought her to be a proper lady, not some rude brat masquerading as a knight. Goddess prays that she has not tarnished your reputation in any way, lest you remain a bachelor forever and my kingdom falls to ruins upon my death. I offered her advice most ladies would offer their fortunes to hear, earning my attention is no easy feat as you very well know.”

“Mother, I believe it was _your_ rudeness which-—” 

“ _ **Silence**_! I shall speak no more about it. Never is a lady knight to waltz within these halls, not until I am cold and buried. Whatever you let your whims become shall have no affect on me then and you will be free to do as you very well like.” 

“Yes, mother…” 

Ardbert bows and retreats with his brows furrowed tightly but his voice a weaker husk of his usually so proud tone. Only once he is well out of ear-shot of his mother’s parlor and safely back within his own quarters does he slump against one of his satin-covered chaise lounges. _Of course_ he knows it’s foolish to be so wound up over a stranger, but Calista’s smile seems burned within his brain.

How she moves, that delightful lavender wisp which follows her, that sweet laughter as she mocks his troubles. Never have any of those things caught his attention from a woman before, not even the forced giggles, intense perfumes or practised dancing of his would-be suitors. There is something about Calista which has him _ensnared_ as if she is the chorus of a song he cannot move from his mind. She is the familiar scent of a flower he has never known the name of. 

Such beauty, surely their meeting means more than his saving in the woods. But she is long gone, back to Thavnair most likely. He would not blame her for it. If only he had so few ties that he might vanish into the eve as well and roam some foreign land all by himself. Alas, he has always been a more honourable prince than what meets the eye. Beneath rugged familiarity and softness, he is a proud son and more than willing to take the place as King one day.

But his heart yearns for what it has discovered and it sees him reach for his boots and coat. Hastily he tugs his outdoor wear over himself, wincing only as the strain of his shoulder suffers through the threading of arms into sleeves. “Fetch me my horse.” He asks his manservant, who bows obediently but fails to mask the perplexed expression falling across his face. 

“What time will we be expecting your return, sire? The roads are quite dark this time of night, can it not wait ‘till dawn? The Queen would surely not allow it...”

“Do not fret.” Ardbert replies as he begins stuffing spare clothes into a satchel. “I cannot be sure of what time I will be back, if I return at all tonight. Tell the Queen that I’ve fallen ill or something. Anything but the truth, that I am hoping to catch Calista before she passes Lakeland and slips beyond my reach forever.” 

It’s incredibly foolish to chase after a lady so late at night with little idea as to where she’s gone, but some part of him feels as though if he simply lets this chance slip between his fingers, he will regret for the remainder of his days. To simply let the night end without at least an apology, his heart would remain empty forever, he fears.

Even as he stumbles out into the night and makes a beeline for the stables, some part of him argues to see reason, that he’s too late and it’s already over but yet he still reaches for his riding gear and attempts to pull it on in the darkness. 

“Sire?” The voice of the young stable boy catches him off-guard and Ardbert sways with one foot in a stirrup. “Bit late for a ride, innit?” The boy asks with a yawn, quickly covering his mouth with a grubby hand.

“Don’t trouble yourself with me and head back to bed, boy. I’ve not a moment to waste.” He returns to attempting to clamber onto Seto’s back, the horse grunting in displeasure at being kept awake so late. “I’ve got to track down that lady knight--”

“No need, sire! She’s holding up down at the inn in town.” The stable boy lingers only to help re-adjust the horse’s gear, guiding his master’s foot into the stirrup before handing him his fallen satchel. “Friend o’ mine down there spotted her ‘itchin’ her horse, reckon she’ll be there all night!” 

At the revelation of such fortune Ardbert’s eyes widen brilliantly. A smile first creeps its way across his face before it stretches into a happy grin. Then a laugh tears through the quiet of the stable leaving the boy flabbergasted. “Sire?”

“Thank you! That’s excellent news, do not breathe a word of this fortune to my mother, you hear!” And with that, Ardbert spurs Seto into motion and the pair of them begin off into the darkness. The gates are thrown wide and along the pathway they vanish, deep into the woodland trail with Ardbert’s uninjured arm tightly grasping the reins. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Ardbert riding through the night to see her face once again, Calista is left to think over her feelings and wrestle with the emotional turmoil within her chest.

Along the painted glass of the window run streaks of racing raindrops. With the flickering candlelight illuminating their snail trail-like paths as they fall, Calista’s eyes follow them as they fall one after another and new droplets take their place. With a warm meal of familiar spice, a tall glass of water and a semi-comfy bed to rest upon, she’s pleasantly satisfied for a moment as she reclines against the pillows and stares up at the ceiling above. 

It’s not ideal, really, not with the faint drip drip of rain leaking through a hole in the window frame, or with the sounds of clattering chairs and drunken singing in the room beside her. It’s almost jarring to go from being in a place so loud and busy to one so empty and alone. She misses Ardbert’s laughter already, but it’s scarcely been four hours. But the quiet is still better company than that of a woman who might judge her for living life the way she desires.

She’s long since grown used to people judging her for her existence, for being both beauty incarnate as well as a skilled fighter. Somehow it seems people forgot that the two can exist intertwined, thus she is somehow a fraud in their eyes. A silly girl who had lost her way from the court one day. But she was not born to be meek and passive, but to fight for what she desired and for what she believed in.

But soon she will return home again. How she has missed Thavnair, she longs to see it once again however much the beauty of Norvrandt has grown on her. A pity really, for she had not managed to ride as far as Kholusia before stumbling upon the prince. Another time perhaps, when she might pay visit to the wonders of that small part of this unusual kingdom.

These thoughts are almost too easy to lose herself within, but she is summoned from them instantly as a loud pounding of fists sounds at the door. Her heart almost bursts from her chest at the sudden sound, a booming within a room which had been so very calm and serene before. The bolts of the door shake and rattle as with a great urgency do those heavy fists slam against the wood.

“Lady Calista!” A muffled deep voice called, a familiar one…

“Who are you? What do you want?” She asks cautiously, reaching for her weapon from her bedside as she carefully swings her legs from the bed. In the split seconds it might take for a stranger to burst that door apart, she can very well prepare herself for a fight if that is what they desire. Her body tenses and she exhales gently, awaiting their reply.

“Open up will you, it’s only me, Ardbert! I dare say I shall topple over in this cramped hallway if you keep this thing closed on me much longer.”

“The prince?” She exhales in genuine surprise, rising quickly to her feet and letting her chakrams fall back to the floor. “My apologies…” she twists the handle of the door and before her stands the man himself… except a very drenched and shivering version of him. “A little...wet.”

“Aye, but you’ll notice I managed to ride without one fall this time.” He laughs, running a gloved hand through his sopping wet hair. “I rode all this way with the intent to speak to you one last time and yet now that we stand here... the words have surely failed me.”

He’s aghast with just how little of what occupied his mind the entire ride there manages to fly from his lips. All those thoughts of how he wished to know her better, how he ached all over with their lack of a proper farewell....

Calista giggles as she invites him into the room with a short curtsey. “ _Here_ , at least shed yourself of these soaked leathers. You’ll drench the entire room and I _do_ intend to sleep here tonight, you know.”

She aids the prince in peeling away his clothing; prying heavy wet leather from his back before draping it over the windowsill. His boots too are kicked off beside hers and the pair of them sit together on the bed. She wonders, for a moment, how acceptable such a thing is… for him to sit upon her bed of all things and converse in little else but their simple clothes. 

“Forgive me if this is invasive, I do usually respect a lady’s privacy after all.” He says, as if reading her mind. 

“All is forgiven, after all I could hardly turn you away after you rode here in the pouring rain just to see me. To deny _anyone_ that kindness, let alone a prince, would be rather crude, would it not?” 

Her laughter warms the chill brought on by the rain and Ardbert blushes instinctively. Truthfully, she has missed watching the pink of his cheeks blossom to his neck, how he hides his smile behind his fingers as if ashamed to be caught so weak. 

A fair few moments of silence follow after their laughter drifts away. Ardbert wonders how on Earth he can apologise for his mother’s behaviour. There is no excusing it after all but he would hate to simply ignore it. Calista, meanwhile,finds herself asking why it is that he is so keen to see her, unless he perhaps knew how much she enjoys watching him stutter and sway with embarrassment. 

In that twilight of silence Ardbert finds himself watching Calista’s fingers move against her palm, how in her idleness she sits attentive yet graceful. Such is the poise of a dancer, he supposes, that even in her slight moments of relaxation she is so visually grand. Candlelight flickers with the slight breeze from the window pane and the prince shivers, rubbing his palms together which earns another chuckle from the lady knight.

“Here.” She pulls the blanket from the bed and drapes it around his shoulders. Not quite a royal robe befitting a coronation and beneath the ragged old rug he looks nothing more than a man shivering from the spring night air. Not something distant and unrelatable, not a foreign lord she feels intimidated to look upon. He is simply a man and that feels so strangely endearing.

“May I… be bold, for a just moment?” He asks with the anxiety pooling within his chest for a moment as he hovers one hand above hers. 

“I’m unsure, considering how your boldness only seems to injure you, but a moment should be perfectly fine.” She cannot help the retort, teasing with a sly smile before her hand is taken and kept within his own. Warmth spreads between them and she finds herself falling towards him, naturally drifting until the pair of them are almost cheek to cheek. Guided by captivating eyes and this magnetic seam keeping the two threaded together.

“Surely your mother would faint at such a thing, after all I am but a silly girl whose lofty aspirations are irredeemable.” She whispers with her eyes darting across Ardbert’s face. So close, his eyes are a blurred and unfocused horizon of a beautiful blue summer sky, until he blinks and dark lashes sweep against his damp cheeks.

Ardbert’s free hand comes up, with a wince in his expression at the remaining pains of his arm, to brush aside a fallen curl from Calista’s hair. He cups her cheek delicately with his thumb rubbing beneath her wide eye, before he leans in to press his lips to hers. There’s still spice upon her smile but as she returns his kiss with the parting of her mouth he fails to care for any unfamiliar flavour she has still clinging to her tongue. 

What begins as a soft, uncertain and careful gesture escalates gracefully as Calista’s hands sweep along his back and press herself closer to him and as he gathers her within his arms and keeps her held there in them. 

Any breaks from their kisses lasts only for a second before another, _another_ , repeated followed by more. On and off, their heads tilted and their hands roaming one another’s spine before Calista’s fingers tangled within his hair. Such a vibrant warmth seeping below the skin that their chests begin to rise and fall with every single touch, as if brought to life by the very motions of their affection.

“I get the impression that you don’t care too much for your mother’s low opinion of me then?” Calista’s words fall as breathy exhales, her cheeks flushed and her voice almost entirely stolen from her as she gasps for breath. For she could quite easily spend her entire life, she realises, lost in the excitement of kissing Ardbert. Not for his princely name, or that he even rode here in the darkness to find her, but that kissing him felt so naturally _perfect_ it would certainly be a crime to deny it.

“Hardly.” Ardbert snorts, squeezing her gently before kissing her forehead. “Funny, I was always bid to mind my head around girls and never once did I understand how one could even… come close to losing it to begin with. Now I think I have some idea, and with a lady knight of all things…”

“Oi!” She gently taps his head with her fingers. “Your highness forgets his manners.” But long after the words leave her lips does Ardbert pull her by the hips into his lap. She squeals almost uncharacteristically with surprised delight but is reunited with a deep kiss before she can say much more. Her protests dissolve into soft moans against his lips and melt into sweet gasps as she feels his hands map out inches of her skin.

Their bodies press together, her warmth against his still damp riding clothes, and Calista feeds her fingers between them to begin unfastening his shirt. Of course, their passion could serve as the downfall to both their standings; a prince tumbling about with a foreign knight of all things meanwhile a knight forgoing her services to bed a royal, to whom she should only offer her duties and not her body. They hardly care at all anymore.

But her body craves his in a way she finds most untamable as it claws at her chest and boils hot bubbles within the pits of her soul. Her skin yearning to be touched by his bare hands, to feel those eager kisses across her body over and over. Ardbert feels it too, this desperation which defies whatever social restrictions may bid him to cease. Whatever rules or rights he may be tethered to are shattered as he allows the knight to prise apart his shirt and brush her fingertips against his chest.

“Is it… do you truly desire this?” He asks, for some part of him fears that it is only by his title that she feels obliged to touch him so. “On your word, I would leave into the night and you would never see my face again, if you wish it.” He still holds her hand and for a moment the pair simply pause to watch each other’s eyes.

“I do. You interest me a great deal, _Prince Clutz_. Against my better judgement it seems… that you have stolen my affections quite well, can you believe such a thing?” Her whisper of a giggle charms him evermore and he begins to unfasten her blouse, revealing her breasts framed within her undergarments. Pale, pretty pink skin flushed only by the excitement of his own touch. He cups her clothed chest, fingers smoothing across the fabric and brushing against her covered nipple. 

Calista squirms within his lap and a happy sigh parts her lips, the motions from his touch are entirely new and yet feeling altogether so familiar that she melts into them easily. Warm whispers of adoration are pressed to her neck as his lips trail along the slender curve between shoulder and ear, sweet mumbles of “beautiful” repeated like a mantra from the prince below her.

Her mouth falls agape as if she means to say something, urging him onward perhaps as she feels his body reacting to their closeness, maybe even repeating back these whispered prayers of affection, but instead she remains wordless for now. She clings to him and allows his lips to explore her body, moving only to pull down the fabric of her bralette to expose herself more to him.

“ _Mhm…_ ” Ardbert growls low from his throat as he offers kiss after kiss to her breasts, pressing his lips to each one after the other over and over before running his fingers over the small buds of her nipples. Calista giggles under such touches, but does not move away. Instead she rolls her hips against him, clothes doing little to keep that friction minimal as she grinds softly against him and delights in how eagerly his body responds to it.

He has never really been good with his hands in the way blacksmiths or practical men are, with their capable fingers trained to weld swords and nimbly carve and create intricately detailed pieces of work. But to Calista his touch is heavenly with his large palms framing and cupping her small breasts, smoothing over her hardening nipples with gentle thumbs and skin softer than she expects. As if working the canvas of some elaborate painting his fingertips brush over her and leave her gasping.

Through practicing with her chakram to even preparing her own salves on the long roads of her journey, Calista’s fingers have long since lost the velvet smoothness of an innocent maiden’s, her life etched into these slightly worn tips but not enough to scar. Her body carries those marks instead but Ardbert fails to see them with his face tilted so close to hers, merely left to dance his hands across her back and feel every healed cut beneath them.

“Do they hurt?” He asks carefully, only sweeping his touch across the places where he can feel her skin has torn sometime in the past.

She shakes her head. “Not anymore.” She almost boasts of her ability to create suitable potions for the pain, how she’s managed to heal them all one by one with nothing but the raw outdoors and her own memorised skill to create such antidotes. Perhaps she will find time to tell him after tonight and suggest something from her satchel to help his still injured arm. _Maybe._

But for now Ardbert summons his strength to lift Calista into his arms as they rise up, the knight wrapping her legs around the prince’s waist before he turns them both and gently lets them both fall to the bed. The ratty old blankets around them may as well be velvet sheets for all they care, as within the dying light of the candlesticks the pair of them sink further into the warm haze of each other’s passion.

“Up.” He whispers against her cheek and she obeys the prince keenly, angling her hips for him to pull away at her breeches. He rolls down the legs and pulls them aside, dipping fingers between her thighs to brush against her wetness. She gasps at his sudden touch, his hands not quite as warm as she expected before he slips a single digit inside.

“Ardbert— _ah_ , Ardb—!” 

She cannot help the excited burst of surprise which sings from her lips as with one hand she clutches at his back and the other twists firmly into the blanket below them. Such a hot and sweet sensation ripples through her almost immediately, Ardbert watching and catching her responses eagerly to adjust to her sounds. 

As her voice elevates, his finger quickens and is soon joined by a second, which pushes against her wet folds and dips into her tight heat. When he hears her breath steady and feels her adjusting to his pace, he shifts into another and steals the gasps from her throat. 

“Shh…” Ardbert hushes her as Calista squeals, but the shushing only catches her off-guard and causes her to giggle between her soft pants. 

“Shh? — _mmm_!” 

Ardbert’s brows furrow. “What’s so funny?” 

Calista can’t help but hide her laugh behind her hand. “You, _shushing_ me! Is my noise offending your _delicate_ ears?” Her teasing warms his face into a vibrant scarlet, but he reacts not by defending himself but by rubbing his thumb over her clit. Her body is already electrified from the heat of his touch, but the simple brushes of contact over her skin this way catches her mid-mockery and stuns her back into a writhing symphony of sweet moans.

He takes that chance to kiss her once more and within the meeting of their tongues and the hurried press of lips on lips, Ardbert smirks against her. 

Beneath his touch she falls apart so easily; her chest rising and falling beneath him as he peppers feather-light kisses against her skin. She’s flushed in warmth across her usually so pale skin, where excitement burns beneath her chest and where Ardbert teases her with his teeth. He’s far more experienced than she might have guessed, but she’s grateful that he seems to know where exactly to touch her, where to kiss her, how to push inside of her so gently that she sees stars twinkling within her vision.

Already out of breath and yet she’s longing for so much more and she decides to say so, pulling him by the neck to drag his ear to his mouth. “I need you more, _please_ Ardbert…” She spreads her legs, still caught within her underwear, and Ardbert’s fingers slip from inside of her to pull the straps of them down. Were he not so desperate to make love to her finally, he’d hook her legs across his shoulders and taste her there, where she’s dribbling with sweet want, and have her sing his name loud enough for the entire town to hear. 

But as the hours creep closer towards his birthday he craves a far _different_ sort of treat for them both. He pulls himself free of his clothing and his hard cock stands proud and exposed, Calista’s eyes lingering upon it with a satisfied eye. 

“Are you ready?” He asks carefully, leaning over her once more with his towering frame contrasting against her slightly more petite one. His shadow hovers across her body and before she replies she gulps a deep breath of anticipation.

“ _Yes_ , unless you plan on tumbling us off of the bed. Take care won’t you.” She beams up at him, her hair fanning about her head as it tumbles against the sheets. From above her she looks spread out like an oil portrait, the soft and yellowed lighting curved about the slender shape of her face and neck while the bobbing candle’s reflection shivers within her eyes. 

For her, he’d learn to paint if only to capture this image forever. 

Their faces linger mere inches apart before they kiss again, intense glances making up for what feels like a lifetime apart. This wandering knight so far from her homeland and a silly prince defying every rule in the book just to kiss her. And yet as Calista welcomes his body against hers she finds herself uncaring for his status, even for his mother and the consequence of the prince’s passion, but instead of how handsome he looks with his hair untidy atop his head. How the soft pink of his lips curls into a caring smile. How his presence warms her in a manner she found unfamiliar. 

“Of course.” He says, Ardbert moving between her legs and pressing himself against her. Her knees rise and she helps guide him inside. There’s fumbling, if only for a moment, as warm and wet skin slips and slides before he finally pushes into her, when they finally sigh and Calista’s words are plucked from her damp lips. 

Already she feels herself drifting away, pleasure racing within her as he merely begins moving _slowly_ and carefully inside of her tightness. Spreading her legs wider, Ardbert finds it easier to slot between them and begins pushing and pulling himself to and from her body as his hands commit to roaming it. Travelling the curves of her chest, to her waist, before hooking his palms around her hips. 

“Calista… _ah_ , is it alright?” He grins madly but cannot help but genuinely ask after her own pleasure. Her body squeezes around him so sweetly but he bids himself to not get lost entirely in a selfish sort of desire. Much to his relief however Calista nods and whines, begging him to move faster. 

“Yes, _please…_ more, I want more! Move faster, I can take it.” She even wiggles her hips a little higher to implore him to do just that, to fill her entirely and take her for himself.

He brings a hand to shift the hair from her face before beginning to thrust harder, hips crashing against hips as his cock moves in and out of her. The reaction is instantaneous and divine; Calista’s caramel-sweet moans rippling from her lips as she shakes below him. 

Every sweeping thrust of his cock inside of her pushing against every sensitive nerve, spurring every delicate spot of desire within her to tremble and tense all at once. She can feel it too, her body tightening as if to keep him inside, making every hard push of his cock into her a delightful burst of pressure within.

There’s an orchestra of pants and groans with the pair unable to say little more beyond “ _yes, yes, yes…_ ” and utterings of holy mantras to make any chapelman wince. For in her warm and gripping heat, Ardbert tumbles into a loving **insanity**. Calista’s sighs and moans capture his mind entirely and he chases them over and over. Each orgasm he is able to drive from her a delicious perfection which has her contracting tight around him.

Calista’s toes feel close to curling with every hard thrust of Ardbert’s cock inside of her, his pace shifting from unrelenting speed to suddenly slowing to an almost cruelly tense and steady beat of his hips snapping against hers. And with each change in movement he has her _writhing_ in joy.

Beads of sweat line Ardbert’s forehead as he keeps bucking into her to chase that impending release he can feel on the brink of crashing down within him. This tidal wave of excitement that keeps bubbling and building with every moan which falls from Calista’s pretty pink lips. Even their kisses now are a mish-mash of swallowed moans as they make love into the late hours of the eve, the bed beneath them squeaking with every rock of his hips as the world seems to shake around them.

Each sharp cry spurs him closer and closer until with a low moan and his eyes clamping shut tightly Ardbert finally spills his release on the momentum of a deep thrust. Calista’s lifted legs slip from being hooked around his hips and they tremble within the air as she feels him press within her and _stay there_. Chests pressed together and breaths joined in their raggedness, for a moment they are paused in the blinding white of pleasure, in the peak of some destined minute of desire’s epitome. 

And with curls of rose pink clinging to her warm cheeks, her eyes of the most brilliant peridot wet with joy, Calista looks _perfect_. 

One of her amused giggles breaks their silence of soft and quickened breaths, prompting Ardbert too to chuckle and embrace her deeply, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tightly. She allows her legs to fall against the blankets and Ardbert carefully slips from inside of her, only to twist them both and pull her atop him on the bed. They lie entwined, legs woven and arms wrapped, like the winding branches of a tall Lakeland tree.

Just before the wick of the candle finally dies, with the rain still hammering against the glass of the window like the distant galloping of hooves, Ardbert glances down to the lady knight nestling herself against his chest. Her fingertips tracing foreign words against his stomach and her steadying breaths warming his already hot skin. 

Of course, he _could_ worry about what his mother might say. That the early morning of his birthday began with… well, _this_. That he has certainly begun a new chapter of his life, even if it came from a book she has not encouraged him to read. Alas, his own fingers thread through his lover’s hair and with the darkness enveloping them, the pair fall asleep paying no mind to much else besides the comforting touch of the other. 

And that perhaps they may wake up looking into one another’s eyes. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a heated night together, what will our couple do next? They are from far too different worlds but as the sun breaks over the beautiful kingdom, Calista and Ardbert find themselves feeling bold and ready to take a chance with their true love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final part of this story! Thank you for reading along to the end, I hope you enjoy this happy end to this romantic tale!

Dawn breaks across the mossy paths winding through the village. Leaves wet with morning dew catch each ray leaving the fields abundant with sparkling gems of sunshine, a springtime wonder for the inhabitants of the small town. While most of them still remain tucked in bed, two figures exhale breaths of dancing silver streams as they ready their horses in the stable before leading them to the road. A prince celebrating his birthday and his lady, a knight with tumbling hair of silky rose and a smile which has not left her face since she awoke. 

“Are you _certain_ you’re able to ride along the road this early? I can only imagine the frost along the way might prove difficult for you to manage, considering your inability to ride.” She winks at him before swinging her leg over her horse. Her frame blocks the sun from the man’s view and he glances up at her, unable to stop himself from beaming back at sunlight filters past her figure.

“Well, should the worst occur at least I have a skilled knight to scoop me back up into her arms. Is that not the role of a knight, to save others from their fatal blunders?” He takes her hand and plants a soft kiss atop it, before she pulls on her riding gloves. 

Calista laughs and the sound is far sweeter than the song of any countryside bird, an effortless burst of joy from her lips as her horse snorts impatiently. 

“Have you thought much on how best to inform your mother of your most disagreeable choice of a lady?” She asks more seriously, watching as the prince seats himself upon his own steed. There’s plenty of hope between them; a promise for a future riding side by side, but she’s hardly naïve to the order of which his life must follow. That he is a prince of noble rights and that he has a kingdom promised to him as well as the marriage to a princess, perhaps. Or some other better suited lady than that of a knight.

But Ardbert shrugs in a way most unbecoming for a ruler. “Not _exactly_ , but I doubt very much that you seek her favour regardless, so whether she approves or not is beside the point as far as I’m concerned.” He’s right about that much. “Should I escort you in, our arms woven together and our love blooming for the court to see, I imagine there would be little for her to do besides accept my choice. After all, although she is the Queen it is I who must claim the throne. I shall deal with whatever blows she deals me as gracefully as you did last night.”

They begin trotting down the path and towards the castle. Some part of Calista remains apprehensive however. The town surely despises her after all, this foreign knight who claims the prince for herself. While she seldom cares for what others might think, there’s a chance this would only come to hinder her time in this kingdom. Would her time here not be sullied by such things?

“Unless of course you would rather go?” Ardbert continues, observing the confliction in her face. But his heart aches quietly for the thought of her loss. He would not prevent her from leaving but it might just break him into pieces should that day come sooner than he expects. Especially after their night together...

“I will gladly return by your side, but I cannot help but worry for the rumours and slander which might occur at your expense. I’m simply a knight after all, with no one from my homeland here to converse with on the matter—”

But Ardbert stops her by raising a hand. “Ride with me for now. Not home just yet but there’s a place I’d like to show you. Let us talk more of our plans when we reach it.” There’s a softness to his words which Calista finds herself silent at, a sort of quiet comfort entangled in his tone which she finds herself unable to decline.

She nods and the pair of them gallop from the village and out into the lavender wilderness. Past trees of varying purple shades, pools of crystal lilac and wandering wyvern stirring from their nests. The wildlife of Lakeland gently stirs to life and as they pass it, Calista twists and turns her neck hoping to catch sight of each strange thing rising from its slumber. 

They splash through the water of the shoreline and climb the steeper hills of the banks to higher ground and a collection of warm pools and springs overlooking the vast horizon. Sweeping mountains dot the very distance and flocks of birds disappear between the rolling mounds of clouds overhead.. 

While the cool air is something Calista fears she may never come to enjoy, the scenery more than makes up for the dreary chill which whips her cheeks at this early hour. As below and beyond lie a floral paradise broken apart only by the varying pools sparkling in the sunshine. Where monsters graze and rivers wind wildly into the lake at the bottom of the hill.

They dismount and take a walk around the place, leaping from broken stones and skipping pebbles along the surface of each pool. Laughter and the sound of running water follows them as they walk until Ardbert guides her to sun-soaked stone ruins and takes her hand as they pass through a half-broken arch.

“My lady…” he begins, the roughness of his accent coming to a head with the sudden anxiety of his thoughts bubbling within him. “I know our acquaintance is short and that we’ve scarcely known each other long. “ He sinks down to her feet, to look up at her puzzled expression. Even with her brows knit in concern she looks _divine_.

“True, but I would be lying if I implied that it does not feel like longer.” She replies, admitting to something that until this moment she had kept secret within her mind, that she feels years have passed between them and that they already share so much. How a single night could spin her into such disarray that she can scarcely comprehend it.

“But to get to the point of the matter, it is still only a brief time with us knowing one another. And I for one would be _determined_ to change that. An engagement is far too soon I’m sure, but if you’d allow it… Lady Calista…” his cheeks burn with embarrassment and yet he persists. “Would you do me the honour of entertaining such a thought nonetheless? That if it pleases you we might spend many more hours together, with you as my _one and true_?”

There are many reasons to say no. 

She’s so incredibly far from home and the complications of their engagement would stack high enough to knock the chandelier from that fancy great hall in Ardbert’s castle. And yet, the grin that bursts across her face as Calista kneels before him against the purple grass spells only her glee at the thought.

“And spend my life saving a silly prince like you?” She giggles and Ardbert’s face falls for a moment. “ _Of course_ , you do me a great honour. _And yourself_ , let us be frank!” At her next words he laughs along with her, embracing her tightly until they sway off balance and tumble into the lush flowers of the hillside. 

“Rest assured however, I do not intend for us to spend our lives within the castle walls.” Ardbert clears his throat. “I have plans to see the world, you know. Perhaps visit that homeland of yours, if you would care to show it to me. So do not abandon your chakrams just yet, I’ll need a great amount of protection as I cross the border.”

Calista scoffs. “Not a chance, my lord.” They kiss and the chill seems to fade from Calista’s skin, some sudden warmth wrapping itself around her as they become enveloped in another tight hug. “I shall protect you, you have my word as well as my heart.”

Relief washes over her as the reality of their future settles within her mind. In his eyes she sees not the life of a sheltered lady forced to abandon her spirit and dance, but that of a couple engaged in a duet. A pair of dancers together, as they weave within the weeds of the purple forest and leap across the pools of Lakeland. She has never wished for a life of comfort and simplicity and Ardbert seems to have understood that without her ever having said it. 

As if he peers into her mind and reads it plain as day— _he knows her_. And as they rise from the grass and return to their mounts with laughter bouncing along the wind they go **fearlessly** towards that future, Calista’s chakrams clinking as the pair of them make their way home to the castle at the very top of the hill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they lived happily ever after, the end! <3
> 
> Thank you so much for checking out my content and a MASSIVE thank you to Chey not only for requesting this but also for helping with the final edits and providing all the support needed to finish this! It is always a pleasure to write for you, I love Ardbert and Calista very much and I'm glad I was able to deliver something magical for the new year!
> 
> If anyone is interested, feel free to check out my [twitter](https://twitter.com/_prettyvillain) for more information about my requests and for details on when I accept them!


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